Some Assembly Required
by InvisibleMeatball
Summary: A collection of short-stories, one page each, revolving around two of our favorite characters. Some connected, most not, and not at all in order. Sam&Freddie.
1. summer

**this is a collection of drabblish stories involving sam and freddie- they may be connected, they probably won't be. i've been playing around with length lately, and each of these is -exactly- one Word document page long, font Calibri (Body), size 11... it's actually harder than it sounds.**

***~summer~***

He isn't even supposed to pick her up today. In fact, he's pretty sure Carly is coming in twenty minutes to get her, but he doesn't really care. It's spontaneous things like this that she's always trying to get him to do, anyway, so he figures she'll appreciate it. Besides, it's the last day of school (also the last day of detention), and some strange part of him feels that this needs to be recognized and celebrated accordingly.

He pulls into the school parking lot and realizes a bit sadly that this is the second to last last day of school he'll ever have here. After this summer, there's only one more year.

He walks up the steps and waits for 6:15 pm to arrive, in three minutes. Right on cue, the front door opens and a crowd of slightly intimidating teenagers trickle out, afternoon detention ending for the last time for three months.

Sam's the last one out, looking, as usual, apathetic, and he has to step right in front of her face to get her to focus on him. "Isn't Carly picking me up today?" she checks, a bit thrown off.

Freddie shrugs. "Yeah, probably." He starts leading her to his car.

"Then you came _why_?" She follows, down the steps and around the corner to the parking lot, where a couple cars are already driving off.

"How am I supposed to know?" he asks, unlocking the car doors by pressing the button on his keys. "It was a spontaneous decision. I thought you'd approve."

Sam throws her empty backpack into the backseat and slides into the passenger seat easily. "No, see, deciding to buy a guinea pig whilst driving by a pet store is spontaneous. Picking me up and probably worrying Carly to death because I'm nowhere to be found, not so much."

"Hey," Freddie says, putting the car in reverse. "You're in my car, aren't you?"

"Yeah, just because I wanted to away from that place as quick as possible," she scoffs. "You're gonna have to work harder at this spontaneous thing." She fools around with his Sirius XM and changes the station to Classic Vinyl Rock, then Laugh USA, then 60's Pop, and finally Today's Pop, not looking completely satisfied but singing along anyway.

"You're impossible," he sniffs, turning up the volume. By now they're about three blocks away from school, and Sam's looking more relaxed every tenth of a mile he goes. She rolls down the windows and fumbles with the sunroof, letting in as much summer humidity as she possible can.

"I love summer," she says needlessly, and he decides to take the more scenic route home tonight. Maybe he'll even let her stand up on the seat, leaning on the sunroof as the wind blows through her hair like she's always begging to do, just because there's something about that that sounds so freeing.

As she does this as they go thirty miles per hour down a country lane, with the June bugs buzzing and the sunset filtering through the trees, Freddie begins to inexplicably really look forward to summer.


	2. doodles

**~doodles~**

The honor student and labeled nerd that he his, Freddie kind of enjoys Wednesday morning assemblies, but today they have some guest speaker trying to raise awareness that the ostrich is now endangered, and Spencer's ostrich bit Freddie six times, so he couldn't really care less.

To his left Gibby is staring, unfocused, at the ceiling, and farther left Carly is sleeping on Gibby's shoulder while her new boyfriend wonders why she's not sleeping on _his_ shoulder. Sam's late, as usu- oh, never mind, the gym door's just banged open and she's walked in, her footsteps echoing as she strides to through the bleachers, stepping over some people and plopping down next to Freddie, yawning loudly.

The ostrich-awareness guy falters, but Principal Franklin urges him on, glaring at Sam. "Um, yes, where was I… oh, yes, the main problem is that ostrich eggs have been declared a delicacy and have been served in over 50,000 restaurants to date-" Freddie tunes him out and glances at Sam.

She says 'sup' idly and pulls something out of her bag. "Hey, what do you think of my new pen?" It's one of those overpriced plastic ones where you click down different buttons and the ink color changes.

"It's nice," he says, and wishes the bleachers had backs so he could sleep comfortably without using Gibby (or Sam, for that matter) as a pillow.

"Thanks, I found it in Gibby's pocket when I pantsed him yesterday. Can I test it out?"

"On what?" Freddie says, but she's already grabbed his arm, clicked it to change to black ink, and started writing on him methodically. "Ow!" He tries to jerk his hand away. "God, that hurts!"

"Oh, shut up," Sam rolls her eyes, and he realizes that she's not writing, she's drawing, as she clicks the color to gray and shades something in.

He sighs and pulls a pen from his backpack. He grabs her arm that's holding his arm still and starts writing her favorite Paramore lyrics on it 'cause she'd kill him if he actually did something degrading.

The ostrich guy goes on about how the poor birds can't even fly and Gibby wonders what it's like to not fly before remembering he can't to begin with. Carly wakes up with a snort, her boyfriend glaring.

Freddie stops abruptly in the middle of the word 'exception' and starts giggling oddly. "Stop!" he tells Sam, who had been starting to reach the inside of his elbow with her pen.

"Aw, are you ticklish?" she fake-coos and starts stroking the spot with her fingernail lightly.

Freddie jerks. "Yes, stop," he says among the forced laughter, and wrenches his arm away. "Oh," he says, surveying it. "This is actually really cool." She's drawn a detailed green eye peeking out from what seems like a dark corner, with the outline of half a hand seeming to pop out at you. "You an artist?"

"Duh, it's cool," she says smugly, "and sure, artist, whatever. Now gimmie your arm back, I'm not done."

He obliges, grasping her wrist again to finish the song. When he examines his arm again in 2nd period, he realizes she's drawn a tiny ostrich on his elbow, saying 'HAVE A NICE DAY, NUB,' from a small speech bubble. He rolls his eyes, smiling, and subconsciously decides not to wash his arm for a while.

**one) i don't even know if ostrich eggs are edible.  
two) this is one of my favorites. has some personal meaning to me, actually, but not in a romantic way.  
three) i don't like assembly. do you?**


	3. fistfight

The only thing that Sam hates more than losing a battle is not being able to fight it herself. However, she hates being expelled just a bit more, so here she is, stuck with her last, yet also first, resort.

"Please," she begs, hanging off the edge of his bed upside down, "just one tiiiny punch in the nose."

Freddie stares at her over his book. "I'm not punching a guy because he asked you out."

"Ugh," Sam whines, sitting up and crawling over to where he was sitting on the bed, "but this should be flattering you! I actually think you can take him! Besides, aren't you really jealous because a debatably cute guy asked me out?"

"No," he says, more or less telling the truth. "No one knows we're dating-" Sam groans at the word 'dating,' "Oh, we're dating and you know it, shut up," he shushes. "Anyway, no one knows, so he wouldn't know not to ask you out. And he'd also think it kind of weird if I just randomly came up and punched him."

"But it wasn't your average, 'Hey, wanna see a movie?'" she scowls. "It was, and I _quote_, 'Hey, baby, I hear you star in some videos on the web... Maybe you'd wanna come over later and make a video of our own?'" She winks exactly like Todd had to her and Freddie lets out an 'ew.' "So," Sam continues eagerly, "doesn't that make you want to punch his teeth out?"

"Y'know," he says, "I can't tell if you just wanna see a good fight, or if you're trying to get me to admit that I'm jealous or something."

She pauses, then finally confesses, "Eh, a little of both."

"I'm not doing it," Freddie declares, turning a page in his book.

"Scared," she labels him, and drags his laptop from the bedside table to her lap.

"You're the only one I'm scared of." He says like most boyfriends would say, 'You're the only one I love.'

"And Daniel Radcliffe."

"For different reasons, especially because with you it's intimidating and attractive at the same time."

"I can respect that," Sam nods, getting bored with the laptop and closing it. "So you'll beat him up?"

Freddie looks up. "I thought all I had to do was punch him. And no."

"But you'll be _defending my honor_," she stresses, even though they both know her honor really doesn't need defending by someone else, and, besides, the only thing that she hates more than losing a battle is not being able to fight it herself.

"I'm not doing it," he laughs, but the next day he's in the principal's office for fighting and Todd is in the nurse's with a broken nose and Carly is still trying to figure out why Freddie's defending Sam and Sam's just glad she got it on video so she has proof that he _so_ loves her.

**an: not my favorite in terms of flow, but i thought i'd put it up anyways. thank you so much for all the reviews by the way :) they mean so much.**


	4. swing,swing

They've only been at the playground for ten minutes when the first warm, fat raindrop slams into Carly's forehead, making her scream, and, after she realizes what's happening, run under the wooden pirate ship, declaring loudly that she's done.

"You're such a girl," Sam yells after her, hanging upside down on the monkey bars while Freddie climbs to the top of a jungle gym.

"As opposed to you." Carly crouches at the table designed for three foot tall kindergarteners and watches the sky turn steadily grayer. "Besides, I have that date tonight and my hair refuses to smooth out after it's been rained on."

"Refuses?" Freddie repeats, sitting on top of the sculpture of intricately woven steel bars, which is really just a fancy way of saying 'that big gray metal thing Sam broke her arm on twice in fifth grade.'

"Refuses!" she says again, laughing.

Sam jumps off the monkey bars, her attention drawn to the yellow, plastic swing set. By now the rain has started falling pretty regularly, but she doesn't seem to care. "You're a horrible person, Carls," she declares, jumping on the already-wet swing, "if you don't like playing in the rain. Come on, Fredgar."

"I do!" Carly insists sadly, watching Freddie make his way down the jungle gym to join Sam on the swings. "If you had let me borrow your jacket with the hood, I'd be out there."

Sam ignores her and starts swinging high, the warm, humid, summer rainfall starting to spot her jeans and sticking some of her hair to her forehead. Freddie comes up and she demands he push her, so he rolls his eyes and starts shoving the small of her back so hard Carly's surprised she hasn't fallen out of the swing yet. Sam seems to enjoy the challenge and suddenly twists the swing around so her feet are flying towards his chest, forcing him to jump out of the way. Sam laughs and allows the swing to slow down a little just as the skies really open up and the two are immediately drenched. Sam says something Carly can't hear over the rain pounding on the asphalt, and Freddie grins, jumping on the swing next to her. The rain bounces off their skin as they swing, each trying urgently to reach higher than the other.

Carly almost decides right then and there to forget about her hair and join them, but just as she's about to take the first fatal step into the downpour Sam knocks her swing into Freddie's and he yells something and she smiles and he laughs and they share this moment together swinging in the rain and Carly feels unexplainably like she's not even supposed to be here.

Carly pauses, still cramped in the tiny table, and tries to figure out if she's okay with the fact that it's entirely possible for Sam and Freddie to be friends without her as the peacemaker, the mutual friend.

Sam turns around, water streaming down her face, and yells for Carly to Come _ON _already, this is fun! Carly smiles genuinely and shakes her head. She's fine with this. Well, of course, unless they start dating, because that would be just wrong.

Sam hugs him playfully, their swings swaying, suspended, and Carly has to rethink things one more time.

**i realllllly like this one. first because it's a TON of fun swinging in the rain. second because i've been recently addicted to romance stories from a friend's pov. idk. r&r, have a low-fat chocolatechip cookie (i just got back from the gym and my mind's still stuck on 'healthy'). **

**random mean girls quote!  
OHMYGOD DANNY DEVITO I LOVE YOUR WORK!**


	5. sandwich

He hums that song he never learned the words to and pulls out some bread, working quickly yet carefully as he spreads the mayonnaise and mustard separate from each other, because she's particular like that. He eats a little string of ham before sticking the rest of the slice on the sandwich, and he smiles because his lips still taste like her. By now he's to the part in the song where he doesn't even know the melody and just starts making it up as he goes, doing a little dance as well.

The door bangs open and he looks up, startled, just to see Carly run through the hallway of their house, looking panicked. She throws her bag on the counter and sighs overdramatically.

"Uh, hey," he says awkwardly, patting the wet lettuce on a paper towel before placing it on the bread.

"Oh, my god, Freddie," she starts, sitting down, before realizing. "Um… you're… not wearing clothes…"

Freddie looks down to see that, oh, all he's wearing is those boxers Sam got him for Christmas. "Yeah, sorry, uh, Sam and I are kinda in the middle of something," he stresses carefully so she gets the point.

Carly's nose scrunches up. "Okay, sorry, but… Wait, you're making a sandwich."

"Well, she got hungry about halfway through, so…" he trails off. "You want some ham?"

"No thanks," she says, sufficiently grossed out. "I just came to talk."

"At ten PM?" Freddie has the feeling Sam's probably wondering where he is by now, so he crunches up some Doritos and throws it in between the slices of bread as fast as he can, trying to hurry now.

"I just got back from a horrible date and was hoping Sam could talk," Carly sighs.

"Sorry, Carls," he shrugs a shoulder, closing the sandwich again with one hand. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Yo Freddie?" comes a call from the bedroom. "Can I get a soda, too?"

He opens the fridge without even complaining. "We got Coke, lemonade, Mountain Dew," he yells back.

"Eh, just mix 'em all together," Sam says lazily.

"By the way, Carly's here!" Freddie calls while pouring the drinks in one of the six cups they own. "She wants to talk to you about a date." Carly lets out a 'Hey, Sam,' awkwardly.

"Kinda naked here," Sam's head appears at the door a few seconds later. "But what's up?"

"Yeah, I've reached the completely disturbed stage," Carly says. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to them married. "I'll, uh, leave you to it..."

"Bye," the Bensons call as she grabs her purse to leave. Freddie picks up the sandwich, balancing the glass carefully on the plate, and walks barefoot back to his wife. "Your sandwich," he announces happily, closing the door behind him, but not before Carly hears Sam say, "Ah, I love you, man," proudly.

Carly glances at the door, sickened at the sudden silence, before rushing out. She'll come back Monday.


	6. tellmeastory

**Once there was a…**_  
_a what?  
**you're supposed to finish the sentence, nub.**_  
_like one of those collaborative story things?  
**whatever tickles your peach. so. once there was a…  
**um, tiger that lived in…  
**new york city. his name was**_…_  
randy and he liked to…  
**eat unsuspecting citizens.**_  
_really, sam?  
**what, you think he liked to knit with his grandma?**_  
_anyway, the police tried to catch randy, but…  
**but they were weak and cowardly and often got their arms bitten off in attempts to harness him.  
**so one day they called on their secret weapon…  
**the ever-powerful Tickles the Clown.  
**what?  
**clowns are scary, man.  
**not when they're named tickles.  
**just finish the story.  
**whatever. tickles the clown was six foot three and weighed three hundred pounds.  
**every time he honked his big red nose…  
**a puppy died.  
**original, freddie. real original.  
**shut up. the police were reluctant to unleash tickles, but…  
**but randy the tiger was causing chaos everywhere, eating people left and right.  
**so they gave tickles a dozen freshly baked pies, wished him good luck, and set him free.  
**however, what tickles the clown didn't know was that…  
**that randy had an owner who would not let his tiger go down that easy.  
**the owner was collecting the corpses randy killed for his…  
**zombie apocalypse experiment. the owner's name was…  
**gibby, and he had three…  
**wives, all named tasha.  
**this is so weird. and stop laughing so loudly. mr. y is onto us.  
**extremely weird. and sorry.  
**tickles the clown stalked randy for days, but…  
**but gibby was one step ahead of him. gibby and tashas #1&2 would…  
**I'm hungry.  
**so?  
**so I'm hungry!  
**but what about the story?  
**I don't care… here's two bucks, go get me some oreos from the vending machine around the corner.  
**fine, but I'm keeping the change.

um i have no idea if i'm doing this html thing right... fanficton's being weird and only letting me update by seeing the preview in html. so idk if this looks nice. :P  
but anyway, this kind of thing is basically what my friends and i do all day long in school. yeah. we're motivated.


	7. marriage

"Maybe we should get married," he muses one Tuesday, shin-deep in sudsy water. It's June and they're in their basement trying to clean up the mess their cantankerous washing machine has just created, pulling out clothes and scooping the water out with trashcans.

Sam looks up at him from where she's bent over, almost crawling inside of the washing machine to rescue that t-shirt with the ninja on it. "Why would we wanna do that?" she scoffs. The machine backs her up, spurting additional water through the misdirected pipe and soaking them even more.

This isn't the preferred reaction, but with Sam, nothing is. Freddie shrugs, avoiding her eyes by scooping up more water with his trashcan and dumping it out the window. "I dunno," he finally says. "Why not?"

"Because weddings," Sam declares, successfully grabbing the ninja shirt and adding it on the pile with the rest of the soaked clothes, "are a waste of time."

"Sam, be reasonable." His knees protest as he bends down yet again, the trashcan filling with water.

Sam sticks her head in the door of the washer, twisting her neck around to look up. "Dude, my bra's sticking to the top," she says, peeling it off and throwing it at his face.

"Thanks for that," he says, unhooking the strap from where it had landed on his ear and tossing it in the pile. "So, what, just because you don't like weddings, you don't wanna get married?"

Sam looks at him again, her oversized Seattle Seahawks sleeping shirt drenched and clinging to her body, her hair pulled back sloppily, and her eyes looking slightly naked without her usual heavy eye make up. "It's a pretty good reason not to."

Freddie tries not to sigh and concentrates on getting the water level down. "Not really."

"Why is it so important for us to get married?" Sam asks, hoisting her trashcan up to the window and emptying the contents out onto the driveway outside with a loud splash. "You already had me move in and join the bank accounts and everything, isn't that enough?"

He hates that she's acting like it all was just doing him a favor. "Well, you see, _sometimes_, when people are in love, and want to express that, they get married." He's wide-eyed and sarcastically innocent.

She tilts her head and scowls at him. "Is this just you trying to get me to say it again?"

Freddie contemplates this. "Not at first, but I wouldn't mind…" She goes back to scooping up the water again and he sighs. "Sam… you haven't said it in at least two months."

"Yes, because this is the perfect moment," she mutters, but then she looks up again and sees his face, standing there in the bubbles, looking like a drowned puppy. "Freddie," she says quietly. "…I love you, okay? I wouldn't be standing here helping you un-flood our basement if I didn't."

He grins unconsciously, kissing her. "Thank you," he says. "I love you, too." She smiles and dumps her trashcan of water on his head, a battle ensuing and a moment being ruined. He wonders if he'll ever get the courage to propose again… or if that even counted as a proposal.


	8. oppositesrepel

_she's not stupid._

Sam's seen the movies, read the corny romance novels, and been awake in enough science classes to hear it. She's done that stupid 4th grade experiment with the magnets and seen The Notebook twice:

**Opposites attract. **

It's simple and it's overused and it doesn't really make sense if you think about it, but yet so many people, from scientists to love struck teenagers, put their faith in those two little words.

It's not like she doesn't believe in it- after all, she and Carly have been best friends for forever. There's a weird comfort in knowing you can get along with someone so different than you. Carly balances her out, ever since they were eight years old and shoved each other onto the pavement, Sam looking up at this new girl eating tuna and thinking Maybe, just maybe, she's found a friend. No, Sam believes in it.

_freddie's just different._

She's even thought about it. In those moments where he's yelling at her and she doesn't care, actually, that the fire wasn't put out quickly, and she's content with just staring at his lips and contemplating.

**Opposites attract. **

Well, they're opposites, alright. She's pretty cool, he's a dork. He's scared of hobos, she beats them up. She inhales meat like it's freaking oxygen, he's gone through vegetarian periods. They're different, simple as.

Which means, according to this stupid rule, Sam should be jumping his bones right now. They can have this glorious relationship consisting of her telling him to make him a sandwich and him arguing but making it anyway. They can get married and bicker at the altar about how silly the other looks and say _I do _anyway and fly off to Cancun while Carly cries happy tears and tells everyone she knew they were right for each other. According to this stupid rule.

_but since when has she followed the rules?_

But that's too easy-and yet entirely too difficult- just to become another cliché with him. If, someday, she confesses she's fallen for him, it'll make her look unbelievably weak. Really_, Sam? You said you hated him forever_, they'll all say. _Some self-restraint that is._

**Opposites attract.**

Well, Sam doesn't care. Maybe she really hates him. Maybe they're just always destined to be unsteady friends, the ones that meet up at weddings and make fun of each other during the toasts.

They don't have to fall in love. She's more stubborn than that. It shouldn't even have to take much effort anyway; they hate each other. He's made that pretty clear.

_or maybe she is stupid._

**ok, i think i'm getting hang of the html thing. is that happening to everyone, the document manager being all screwy? or is it just my suckass computer? :P**

anyway, ugh, this was just me expirimenting. (did i spell that right?) didn't turn out like i'd like it to, but nothing ever does. probably won't try it again.

okay, i'm going back to singing along dramatically to Lacrymosa by Evanescence. if you know that song, heh. 


	9. shedoesn'tevengohere

You have to admit, you weren't so sure about this date, but Freddie's actually a really cool guy. He laughed at all your jokes and held your hand comfortably and even let you pick the movie, which is more than you can say for your last couple of boyfriends, so when he invites you inside his apartment when the date's over, you agree. But only because he seems like the last guy in the world to try and get in your pants three days after asking you out.

He, after you almost beg, tells you the story of the time he worked with Ginger Fox as you make the way to his bedroom, chatting and laughing in that polite way you do on first dates. You smile at him charmingly while he opens the door, and then it all goes downhill.

"Oh, hey, dude!" comes a greeting from what must be the bathroom, and it sounds female. You're praying it's his mom, oh please god, when the voice calls again. "Thish new toothpashte you got ish horrible!" she says in a familiar it's-really-hard-to-talk-while-brushing-my-teeth-but-I'll-try-anyway lisp.

You look at Freddie, alarmed, and he's grimacing, trying to shoot you a reassuring look. "I'm so sorry, Arianna," he says hastily, and you frown. So there's something to be apologizing for? "My friend, she, uh, regularly picks the lock to my apartment, and-"

Then his friend, that girl, Sam, appears in the doorway of the bedroom, and she's wearing pajamas that look a bit too big for her. It takes you a moment to realize they're probably _his_ Webicon t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that she's wearing so comfortably. She has a toothbrush in her toothpasted foamy mouth and you can't believe you're so stupid. "Oh, shorry, man. 'Otally forgah about your date."

"What's she doing here?" you finally manage to ask Freddie, who is pursing his lips awkwardly.

"Arianna," he says. "look, there's nothing going on between me and Sam, believe me, just friends. …And Sam, you better not be using my toothbrush!" he yells the last part, kinda blowing your eardrum out.

Sam pulls the toothbrush out of her mouth and surveys it. "Whoopsh," she says sarcastically.

"Is she spending the night?" you demand, taking in the plastic bag of clothes and extra pillow on his bed.

"No," Freddie says forcefully, "and I have no idea what made her think that she could."

"Dude!" Sam protests, raising her arms in confusion. "Now I got nowhere to go! You said I could drop by anytime my mom freaks and Carly's busy!"

"Freddie! Does this happen a lot?" Your jaw drops.

"Sure," Sam rolls her eyes, turning back to spit out her toothpaste. "Couple times a month?"

"Sam!" Freddie hisses.

"I'm sorry," you say, grabbing your coat out of his hands angrily. "I don't think this'll work out."

As you run down the hallway in your nice shoes, you can faintly hear them yelling at each other. You come to the cynical, bitter conclusion that they'd make a wonderful married couple.

**hello... um... my name is invisiblemeatball... this is hard for me. i'm sorry. anyway. my name is invisiblemeatball and i... i suck at endings. it's my first time here at sucky endings anonymous. thanks for accepting me. :') sniffle.**

but other than that i like this one. :D

forgot to mention, thanks for all the reviews :D you all equals awesome.

this song sounds like a dance song, cause dance songs are cool now, so get up and shake whatcha mamma gave ya.

ignoring that, another mean girls quote!

SHE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE!

do you even go here?

no...i just have a lot of feelings.

ok, go home. 


End file.
